see anyone walk past with a just-purchased painting, but there was a lot of traffic in and out of the galleries. Some were workmen, some were clerks hurrying to work, some were bleary-eyed owners squinting in the sun.
None looked particularly formidable. But of course if Lady Werewilk’s troubles were coming from Mount Cloud, they’d hire out the dirty work. People who don’t get up past noon are hardly likely to know anything at all about the surveying trade.
But of course plenty of people did. With the slow but steady post-War boom, surveying was a big business. Trying to sift through the thousands of people who might know enough math and have some experience setting marker sticks would be a lot more difficult and time consuming that shaking down every gallery owner in Mount Cloud, and even that was impossible.
I drained my cup and waved the waiter off. I’d be back to Darla’s in exactly two hours, which I figured would be at least an hour early but if anyone was going to gloat it was going to be me.
Finding a cab was easy. I let Mount Cloud roll past, and I kept my gaze out of those windows.
The Big Bell was banging out the appointed hour when I returned to Darla’s. Neither Darla nor Miss Gertriss was available, quoth little Mary the salesgirl, though from the giggling and hushed words coming from the back I didn’t have to guess where they were.
Darla keeps a chair for me in the corner. I’ve always been a little nervous about that chair and its quiet implication that I’ll be spending so much time waiting for her that I might as well have a seat and fossilize. But it’s a nice chair, so I sat and pulled down my hat and was more than halfway to a snooze when someone tapped lightly on my shoulder.
A woman was standing over me, smiling.
My mouth was open to say something—I still don’t know what—when the woman laughed, and it was only then I recognized Gertriss.
Her hair fell down on her shoulders in a smooth blonde wave. Her eyes were luminous, her lashes long and dark, her skin aglow as if from candlelight. She smelled of soap and a hint of Darla’s own perfume.
Gone was her burlap smock. She was dressed smartly, not seductively, in black pants and a dark red blouse and shiny leather lady’s boots. Her waist was belted with a silk sash, and Mama was likely to emit steam when she saw the figure Gertriss was hiding under all that sackcloth.
“Damn,” I said. Gertriss went wide-eyed and jumped back, as though I’d sprouted horns and cursed, and I realized with instant regret she was half right.
“I meant you look amazing, Miss Gertriss,” I said, rising.
“She does, doesn’t she?” said Darla, stepping out from behind her counter. “A little make-up, a few simple street clothes, and I believe she’s ready for life in the big city.”
Gertriss blushed, deeply and suddenly. She kept her hands together, as if hiding them, and Darla grinned and caught them both up in her own.
“We’re going to get you a manicure right now,” said Darla, with a sideways wink to me. “Mary, wrap up her things, will you? And see that Mister Markhat here gets the bill.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Darla took Gertriss by her elbow and led her toward the door. “We’ll be back in a bit, Markhat,” she said. “By the way, I left you a note.”
And then she blew me a kiss, and left with Gertriss in tow.
I shook my head and grinned. Mary darted up to me, curtseyed and handed me an envelope.
“Thank you,” I said, as she busied herself wrapping and hanging what appeared to be the entire shop’s inventory of clothing.
The bill wasn’t as bad as I thought, and since that would be Mama’s burden anyway I managed a smile and put it away. Darla’s note was folded in the far-too-intricate way of hers, so I took again to my chair and unfolded it and read.
Darling, it began. I grinned. She always pronounced the word with a put-on aristocrat’s air, and I could hear it plainly in the letters she’d
None looked particularly formidable. But of course if Lady Werewilk’s troubles were coming from Mount Cloud, they’d hire out the dirty work. People who don’t get up past noon are hardly likely to know anything at all about the surveying trade.
But of course plenty of people did. With the slow but steady post-War boom, surveying was a big business. Trying to sift through the thousands of people who might know enough math and have some experience setting marker sticks would be a lot more difficult and time consuming that shaking down every gallery owner in Mount Cloud, and even that was impossible.
I drained my cup and waved the waiter off. I’d be back to Darla’s in exactly two hours, which I figured would be at least an hour early but if anyone was going to gloat it was going to be me.
Finding a cab was easy. I let Mount Cloud roll past, and I kept my gaze out of those windows.
The Big Bell was banging out the appointed hour when I returned to Darla’s. Neither Darla nor Miss Gertriss was available, quoth little Mary the salesgirl, though from the giggling and hushed words coming from the back I didn’t have to guess where they were.
Darla keeps a chair for me in the corner. I’ve always been a little nervous about that chair and its quiet implication that I’ll be spending so much time waiting for her that I might as well have a seat and fossilize. But it’s a nice chair, so I sat and pulled down my hat and was more than halfway to a snooze when someone tapped lightly on my shoulder.
A woman was standing over me, smiling.
My mouth was open to say something—I still don’t know what—when the woman laughed, and it was only then I recognized Gertriss.
Her hair fell down on her shoulders in a smooth blonde wave. Her eyes were luminous, her lashes long and dark, her skin aglow as if from candlelight. She smelled of soap and a hint of Darla’s own perfume.
Gone was her burlap smock. She was dressed smartly, not seductively, in black pants and a dark red blouse and shiny leather lady’s boots. Her waist was belted with a silk sash, and Mama was likely to emit steam when she saw the figure Gertriss was hiding under all that sackcloth.
“Damn,” I said. Gertriss went wide-eyed and jumped back, as though I’d sprouted horns and cursed, and I realized with instant regret she was half right.
“I meant you look amazing, Miss Gertriss,” I said, rising.
“She does, doesn’t she?” said Darla, stepping out from behind her counter. “A little make-up, a few simple street clothes, and I believe she’s ready for life in the big city.”
Gertriss blushed, deeply and suddenly. She kept her hands together, as if hiding them, and Darla grinned and caught them both up in her own.
“We’re going to get you a manicure right now,” said Darla, with a sideways wink to me. “Mary, wrap up her things, will you? And see that Mister Markhat here gets the bill.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Darla took Gertriss by her elbow and led her toward the door. “We’ll be back in a bit, Markhat,” she said. “By the way, I left you a note.”
And then she blew me a kiss, and left with Gertriss in tow.
I shook my head and grinned. Mary darted up to me, curtseyed and handed me an envelope.
“Thank you,” I said, as she busied herself wrapping and hanging what appeared to be the entire shop’s inventory of clothing.
The bill wasn’t as bad as I thought, and since that would be Mama’s burden anyway I managed a smile and put it away. Darla’s note was folded in the far-too-intricate way of hers, so I took again to my chair and unfolded it and read.
Darling, it began. I grinned. She always pronounced the word with a put-on aristocrat’s air, and I could hear it plainly in the letters she’d
Similar Books
DARK CITY a gripping detective mystery
CHRISTOPHER M. COLAVITO
Natural Consequences
Elliott Kay
Ringworld's Children
Larry Niven
Transvergence
Charles Sheffield
The Animal Hour
Andrew Klavan
Possession
A.S. Byatt
Blue Willow
Deborah Smith
Fragrant Harbour
John Lanchester
Christmas In High Heels
Gemma Halliday